


The First Night

by Villains_Refuge



Series: Writing Requests [9]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulation, Mental Breakdown, Mind Break, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 18:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15297378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Villains_Refuge/pseuds/Villains_Refuge
Summary: Even in death we are not free





	The First Night

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: Staci Pratt. The first night you kill Jacob he’s still a mess and he will be for a while. You’re fast asleep in bed when you hear someone walk into your room; it’s Pratt. He’s still shaking and just stands there awkwardly looking at you. You lift the blanket and he quickly lays down behind you and buries his face in your arm and quietly begins to sob. You let him squeeze you as tight and as long as he wants because he fucking needs this right now.

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything.” Pratt nodded his head but avoided Rook’s eyes. They had done it. By God they had fucking done it. He felt a tremor surge through his hands then the rest of his body. He was free, Jacob was dead. He could finally be free!

At least, that’s what he thought.

The entire Whitetail region was celebrating. Their oppressor was dead, another of Joseph’s heralds no longer scorching the earth around them. Tammy and Wheaty insisted Rook and Pratt join in the celebration but Rook politely declined.

“If it’s all the same, I really need some actual sleep.” Naturally they respected that, how could they not? Rook was deserved all that and more in Pratt’s opinion. They were strong.

Stronger than Jacob.

Stronger than him.

He knew he was weak, weak and worthless. He was nothing more than bait, a power play against his collegue. Pratt knew that he deserved this, knew he should have been culled. But Jacob…Jacob made him strong. That was why he was still alive right? It had to be, only the strong survived! Only the strong could live in the new world! And the weak…

And the weak…

The tremors grew as Pratt tried to move. He was exhausted, broken. But he needed this, it wasn’t weak to seek aid. He hovered in their doorway, the door open and Rook’s sleeping figure curled tightly on the twin sized bed. Pratt watched as their shoulders moved up and down with each breath, his hand poised to knock but stopping before his knuckled could touch the cool metal.

“Always so scared, Peaches.” Pratt froze. His chest clenched painful at the voice, seizing what little air he had in his lungs completely “Are you gonna look to them for protection now? You’ll need someone now that I’m gone.” Pratt shook his head. No, no, no! He was not weak! He didn’t need a fucking protector!

He could hear footsteps, heavy, familiar footsteps. Pratt knew them, he knew the gait. The confidence. How they would circle like a predator against wounded prey, closing off any escape. Pratt couldn’t move, couldn’t run. His body bowed to the presence he felt. He knew Jacob wasn’t there. He knew he was safe, but that didn’t matter.

He was in his head so vividly that Pratt could feel his rough hands grip his shoulders, feel the hot breath against his skin as he chuckled.

“Pratt.” he flinched. Jacob never called him that. “Hey, hey come here.” No, this wasn’t Jacob’s voice anymore, someone else was in the fog with him. Someone else was there with him.

“Staci, come back to me.” and he did. There was a deep, parting chuckle as the haze cleared, a lingering pat against his shoulder. Then he saw Rook, turned to face him with their blanket covered arm raised. He didn’t even hesitate to take those few steps toward them, collapsing in their open arms. Trembling arms pulled Rook tightly against him, burying his face in their hair as the quiet sobs slowly began to spill from him.

Rook didn’t speak, didn’t shush him or try and tell him everything would be find now that Jacob was gone. They just wrapped their arms around him and held him, sharing every inch of themselves and the tiny space they could offer. There were no complaints as Pratt squeezed them tighter, no sighs of irritation as he muttered mostly incoherent words into their hair and neck.

It was the perfect comfort he needed, the acceptance without ridicule that meant more to him than any words Rook could have told him. Soon their breathing evened out with his and the world around them darkening in peace for the first time in months.


End file.
